


Maine in Spring

by sunlitflowers



Series: Movie AU Series [3]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Business Rivals, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Gold tryin to be a good step-grandfather, Henry is not his son, Internet Relationship, Neal is dating Emma, Romance, youve got mail au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-16
Updated: 2016-06-18
Packaged: 2018-07-15 09:46:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7217518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunlitflowers/pseuds/sunlitflowers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rum Gold and Belle French have never met, but their interactions online in e-mail and instant messaging show that they care and know more about the other than any other person. Eventually, Gold finds out that the enchanting and wonderful woman he's talking with online is his business rival.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

Belle woke up to the sound of her roommate Ruby coming into her bedroom wielding a copy of some magazine and ranting about modern technology. She was upset because western civilization and pop culture was more important to everyone in the world than saving a few endangered wolves. She sat up as Ruby sat down at the bedside and read quotes from the media about what was going on with the poor dogs. Belle got out of bed, tossed Ruby her jacket, and then went to brush her teeth. Finally, Ruby realized she was running late and continued her mantra about protecting the animals all the way out of the door. 

Belle went made sure Ruby went all the way outside before sitting down at her desktop still in her pajamas. She made a point every single morning to read the message from the person she met on a vintage collector’s chat forum. He had commented on an out dated thread of hers, but she replied anyway. Back and forth, back and forth, until finally she worked up the gumption to ask for a private conversation. Eight months later, just one or two of her friends new about the late night talks with a stranger who she felt closer to than anyone else in Maine. Nothing made her feel like the day was going to be the best one possible than reading his message, first thing in the morning.

_From: Cane117.  
Subject: Son. _

_I have a son who loves the streets and traveling as much as you do. He also likes to eat nothing but leftover pizza and bagel despite my great attempts to replenish. He has a bright future if I could just get him out of the house. He sleeps more in his car than he does anywhere else._

_Don’t you love Maine in the spring? It makes me want to buy flowers. I would send you a bouquet of newly gardened flowers if I knew your name and address. Of course, this not knowing has it’s charms._

On the other end of that e-mail, Rum Gold awaited the stranger’s reply. A few years ago, his son Neal had stormed into the shop home from college in need of a computer to print a resume. After finding that Rum had everything under the sun in his shop aside from one of man’s greatest achievements to technology, Neal took care of what he needed to first. He got his dad a computer, set him up with a user name and password, and even got him to the first website address. It was an ad for one created by a citizen of Storybrooke that had been posted on the librarian’s front desk. 

“I’m late.” Neal bounded down the stairs of Rum’s house. “They fired that guy I don’t like with the ugly hands.” Rum gave a pointed look at his son’s rude comment, but Neal paid no mind. “Regina got a great review. She’ll be awful.”

“When?”

“Tonight. Dinner. You promised you’d go. It’s too late for me to bribe Emma anyway.” 

“Can’t I just give a donation? I can be whatever this is for.” Neal stared a threat that he wanted to be heeded. “Alright, I’ll go. You’re late.”

Neal bolted out of the door, three coffees and seven donuts in his hands. Just in time, too. Rum was about to close down the laptop for the day until he saw the notification of a new message

_From: BookGirl._

_I like pretending that we’re the best of friends when writing these. It makes that we met in a chat room so less embarrassing. However, you don’t ever talk to me like we did that. Every morning I get up I can’t wait for the slow movements of my computer booting up. My breath always catches in my chest as I see my favorite thing in the world._

_Nothing else in the world occurs, no sound in Storybrooke, just the beat of my heart. I have mail from you._

Confidence in her message back to Cane made Belle walk with the extra skip in her step while walking to work. She waved hello to mothers, fathers, children going to school and on their way to a job just like her. She grabbed a fresh chocolate chip muffin from the bakery on her way and dropped off her donation to the food bank for the month. Always a pleasure to help. She stopped at a magazine stand, saying good morning to them as well, as she picked up a copy of the local paper. She continued on her way, passing by those who were opening up shoppes. Her road contained flower shops, nail salons, the pharmacy, fish store, and Granny’s. 

She was left completely unaware of Cane117 having stopped at the same newsstand to buy a copy of every magazine. He stayed a block behind her in routine. When Belle stopped to buy flowers, Gold passes her and crosses to his side of the Avenue. They then completely part ways as he enters into a building under construction and she unlocks the door to her cozy, intimate, home away from home. Mary Margaret is already there to pick up the books Belle was willing to part with for the Read-A-Thon going on that week. 

“Hello, Ms Blanchard. It’s a beautiful day isn’t it.” Belle glistened with delight. 

“I suppose so, sure.” 

“Don’t you love Maine in the spring?” Belle smiled over her shoulder as she packed in duplicates of books to a transportable bag. 

“It’s late fall, Belle. What’s up with you?” 

“Nothing!” Belle’s voice came out a squeal as she reached over the counter to swat at Mary Margaret’s hand. 

“You’re in love.” 

“Love? No. Yes. Of course I am. I’m in love with Gaston. I’m practically living with Gaston.” Belle shook that realization right out of her mind. “Do you still have that list of Christmas mailers? I need some delivering.” 

“I can bring it by tomorrow. Now tell me what’s going on!” Mary Marget beamed at the gossip. Belle kept none of it really. 

“Is it infertility if you’re involved with someone on e-mail?” 

“Have you two been together?”

“It’s not like that. We just e-mail, which makes me feel so old. I’m thinking of stopping because it’s getting-”

“Out of hand?”

“Confusing. Even though it’s totally nothing.” Just then the chime above her door dinged signaling this conversation to be over. “Emilie and Gennifer, how are you today!”

Back over at where Cassidy’s Golden Books, Neal and Rum were walking through the soon to be hallways with workers, electricians, masons and carpenters working around a bunch of wires. Neal listened with every intent as one of them explained someone’s truck hit a deer and wouldn’t be there tomorrow, shelves would be delayed, and there was a question about the interior decorating. Rum was hardly paying attention which made him that much more agreeable. A feat that was bad when construction and planning like these things were going on. He asked where the electrician was and had to be told again they hit a deer. All Gold could think about was that line. _I hear the beat of my own heart._ He was smiling.

“Did you and big hair get engaged?” Rum rolled his eyes at his son’s question. 

“Engaged, are you crazy?” 

“I thought you liked her. That she was amazing and made you nervous.”

“She made coffee nervous.” Rum was then suddenly all business. He addressed one of the contractors. “Still on schedule?”

“Open two weeks before thanksgiving.” Rum hit his desk and pointed in their direction with a grin on his face.

“That’s what I like to hear. Just in time for that holiday rush. The minute they’ll be lining up-”

“They’ll be picketing the big bad chain store that destroys everything we hold dear.” Neal finished off his father’s thought.

“We’ll get them with square footage, good chairs, and lovely checkout lines. They hate us in the beginning, but we always get them.”


	2. Two

Gold sat in the office with his son. The place had been newly redecorated, everything from the ground to the ceiling brand new and possibly a little overdone. The walls had been painted gray to cover the bright blue Gold had never cared for. He had never found an interest in the shade for some reason, or brown but it the interior decorate insisted. They had suggested this in order for the room to look more ‘homey’ considering how often Gold had said he was going to be in there. Everything else was very modern. He didn’t think it matched, but Neal assured it had. Of course, that might be to save the decorators from doing it again for the sixth time.

They discussed the ‘very sad’ announcement of the latest few independent bookstores going under. One on twenty third street didn’t even last until they got the doors open. Gold was glad of this and had Neal make calls to buy their entire stock and architecture for the new store. Gold assured they would pay whatever it took. It wouldn’t cost as much as the couch in their office anyway. They then discussed having a section for the writers to keep those, in his words, liberal nut pseudo-intellectual bleeding hurts from jumping down their throats.

“They’re called readers, dad.” Neal gave a pointed look in Mr Gold’s direction. “What else is the competition?” 

While refreshing his e-mail again, Gold opened another tab and searched through his documents. A mystery based store with a terrible name and a children’s book store that had been there longer than it’s current owner. Belle French had a reputation for being completely enchanting and charming, not like the reviews of her live-in boyfriend Gaston Legume. Mr Gold made a note to venture over there at some point before his own opening day to instill the fear of Gold into her veins. He was a smart man. He’d make her quiver with fear.

BookGirl sent her a message about seeing a butterfly during her lunch break that had gone into a hat store. He laughed at her description of the monarch buying a great hat that would turn out to be a mistake. In turn, later that night so as not to seem like he’d been waiting to talk to her all day, he told her about the flour truck. It pulled up to some alleyway by his house and pumped flour into the ground. Tons of it, which he thought might be illegal, but he didn’t mind. It was like walking through a shaken up snow globe. Absolutely breath taking and beautiful. Just as he imagined walking next to BookGirl would be.

She confided that she read Pride and Prejudice a million times, but she still gets worried Elizabeth and Darcy weren’t going to end up together. However, her favorite books were the ones she read as a child. He chirped up at this subject he knew quite well and recommended one that he hoped wouldn’t be too old for her. It was about a donut machine that won’t stop making donuts as regular as the clock can Tick Tock. Tick Tock. The next morning, a new message from BookGirl asked if he’d ever been to Krispy Kreme, because their machine made over a hundred dozen donuts in an hour. He stopped by there and quickly told her the machine was equally amazing. She was equally amazing.

Belle, warm with words from a stranger and not from the tight hold Gaston had her in all night as his chainsaw snoring blasted in her ear, once again had a skip in her step. Not too far from her little shop around the corner was a painter filling in the outlines of COMING SOON, A GIFT FROM GOLDEN SON’S. She didn’t pay attention to it or the two police cars barreling up Main Street or the television news truck. Ruby had been delayed by the incident and was questioned by the reporter seeking information. She walked her now nervous self down Main Street with plans to surprise Belle at the library with breakfast, but something caught her eye. It hadn’t deterred her from the gorgeous reporter, but something she knew Belle would need to know.

“You’re going to think I’m completely crazy.” Ruby continued after receiving a curious look. “I had a coup de foudre. I’m in love.” 

“It happened to Madame Bovary at least six times. Granted, she was wrong every time, but I believe in this!” Belle set down her latest shipment and hugged her friend of support. “Who is it?”

“I don’t know. A reporter outside my building with police and reporters.” Belle stopped and withdrew. “Someone died.” 

“Who? I’m not sure on that one. But there is something way worse.” 

Ruby lead Belle to the wall that was now completed. Huge in yellow lettering with the trademark Golden Sons Books’ logo of a dagger across the word Golden. 

“It’s big, impersonal, overstocked and filled with ignorant salespeople. They don’t provide service. I do.” Belle convinced herself. “Dad thought he was going to have the same issue in the flower district. This is going to be the book district. If they don’t have it, we do.” 

“And vice versa.” Ruby muttered. Belle felt a twinge of fear she uneasily ignored. 

Later that night in her apartment, Belle was unpacking groceries still absolutely terrified. She had lunch at Granny’s and got to listen to everybody be all excited about the new bookstore. Gaston was over tonight, as most nights lately, and jogging on the treadmill. he gave her words of encouragement, tried to at least, and she smiled at him. He hopped off the treadmill and hugged her tight. He then went to her closet and pulled out another workout machine. She rolled her eyes. He was turning her apartment into a gym. He always promised he’d stop, then amend that statement with saying that he probably couldn’t.

_From BookGirl:_

_I lead a very dull life. I wonder if I do it because I like it, or because I haven’t been brave. So much of what I see reminds me of something I read in a book. Shouldn’t it be the other way around? I don’t want an answer. I just want to send this out into the void. So, goodnight dear void._

“I went on that Golden website. We should get a website.” Moe French decided as he brought in new centerpieces for a few of her tables. 

“’Every book you sell is a gift from your heart’.” Belle quoted her mother. Moe’s lip frowned at the corner. 

“What if they put you out of business?”

“I’m practically a landmark. Like a…sailboat.” Belle shuddered. She hated sailboats. To get up in the morning knowing she had to go down to a pier and unravel ropes and put on sunblock and then sail and sail and sail until she was bored out of her mind. Then turn around and realize the trip is only half over. Only it’s not, because the wind has changed. So when you finally get back after getting nauseous from the up and down movements of the boat, she would have to clean it. 

Meanwhile, Mr Gold was on a sailboat polishing the brass and humming a very old tune to himself. It wasn’t his, per say. It was an acquaintance which owed him a lot of money and was looking to buy the ship off him quarter price or sell it to him at a full. Gold took care of it while Leroy worked out his own terrible issues. He didn’t particularly like the hobby of sailing, but he wasn’t too pleased when Neal Cassidy was walking up with a kid in hand. Neal had only known Henry for a few months, but the two seemed to be doing fairly well. Neal was working on a relationship with his girlfriend’s son to make the transition into her life easier. They were being followed by Regina Mills. 

“Hello, Henry. Neal. How are you today?” Mr Gold was trying as hard as he could. He didn’t hate kids. He just had nothing but indifference. 

“Great.” 

“Don’t I get a hello?”

“Regina.”

“I brought her in case you can’t handle Henry.” Gold pursed his lips. He’d completely forgotten about watching Henry so Neal and Emma could have one date that didn’t involve Cheeto fingers by a superhero movie light. Gold was trying very hard.

“Regina’s getting a divorce.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Never marry a man who lies.” Regina stated flatly. Gold didn’t know she was seeing anybody. 

“Very wise. Remember that, Henry.” 

“She taught Henry how to spell his name.” Neal replied, proud like he wasn’t trying to just be a stepfather.

“Swan. S-W-A-N.” 

“Good work,” Gold said to Regina. “You can have the day off I’ll take it from here. You must be late for something. Volunteer work, packing bandages, course in Chinese literature.” 

“I’m having my eggs harvested.” Gold winced at the information he didn’t need to know. 

Gold had screwed up many things in Neal Cassidy’s life when Neal was just a young lad in his mother’s arms. Neal had runaway for fourteen months after graduating high school and only came back when Mr Gold had Emma find him. It worked a little too well, but ever since then, Gold was doing whatever it took to keep his son in his life. Right now it meant playing almost-step grandfather. There was ab lock street fair with booths, concessions, jugglers, face painting, and games. Henry won a goldfish in a bag and had his face painted as a pirate. 

They walked by The French House, a bookstore that Gold remembered being on the list of competitors left. On the outside, a toy doll was sitting outside wearing a witch’s house. The Book Lady was reading in three minutes. Henry insisted on seeing her. Gold dragged his feet over the threshold and held the goldfish bag while Henry went to find a seat. Gold followed the sweet melody of an Australian accent reading from what he believed to be a Roald Dahl book. Gold watched as her sparkling crystal blue eyes traced over every last word. Her warm voice gave a different sound to each character, a detail he found enchanting. She was enchanting. She was beautiful. She was amazing.

Later, Gold watched around everything. Children were bustling about everywhere begging for their parents to get them this or that, a toy and a snack from the bargain bin. Henry settled up in a corner reading something on fairy tales. The Book Lady, who he found out to be Belle French, was talking to a little girl about a book. Gold let someone talk to him about a first edition in a glass class that cost half as much what he would charge for it.

“Expensive.” Gold muttered.

“Worth so much.” The girl quickly answered. Gold looked to see Belle now talking with Henry about the book in his hands. 

“I want all of these.” He patted a stack of five next to him.

“That might be an awful lot for your dad to buy at once.” Considerate, Gold thought.

“My dad gets me all the books I want.” Henry smiled, trying to pick them all up in his hands. Belle looked towards Gold who said nothing. 

“That’s nice of him.” 

“That’s not my dad. That’s my mom’s boyfriend’s dad.” The phrasing of boyfriend made Gold cringe. “He’s gonna be my step-grand pop. Right?” 

“That’s between you and him, dearie.” Gold smiled at Belle who smiled back. For a long time. Until Henry sneezed. Belle was quick to reach in her pocket and retrieve a handkerchief.

“What is it?”

“Do children not know what handkerchiefs are?” She asked Gold as she walked over to the counter. “A handkerchief is a Kleenex you don’t throw away. My mother embroidered it for me. See? My initials are a rose because they’re my favorite flower.”

“Who are you?”

“Belle French. I own this store. And you are?” 

“Rum. Just call em Rum. We’ll take these.” 

“This is why we’re never going under. Your customers are considerate to the kids as you are, Sunshine.” A man appeared, hugging Belle’s shoulders. 

“They’re opening a Golden Son’s.” Belle explained with a roll of her eyes. She turned away to grab a reusable burlap bag. 

“Golden Books! Mr.-”

“Rum likes to buy at a discount. Don’t tell anyone that, Henry. It’s nothing to be proud of.”

“G-O-L-D.”

“That’s amazing, you can spell Gold. Can you spell silver?”

“G-O-L-D.”

“Henry, read this. We’re taking this too. Go over there and read that.” Belle waited until the kid was gone before speaking as adults.

“I used to watch my mother sell books. She was helping people become whoever they were going to turn out to be. When you read a book, it becomes part of who you are in a way that no other reading does. Especially as a child. You can hide it as an adult, but-” Belle flushed, a warm pink on her face. “I’ve gotten carried away.”

“You have and you’ve…” Gold looked everywhere for a way out of this sentence. “Been enchanting. Your mother would be proud.”

“You knew her?” Moe came to his daughter’s defense hearing the line.

“Lucky guess.” Gold’s eyes didn’t leave Belle’s face.

“Anyway, she gave it to me and I’m giving it to my daughter.”

“How old is little French girl now?” 

“I’m not married. But eventually. So Cassidy’s Golden Books can go to hell.” She said the last three words with her father. Gold smiled, then hurriedly pushed Henry right out the door.


	3. three

Belle had long since gotten over not being pretty enough for Gaston to look at longer than she knew he was going to. Ruby was busy and Mary Margaret probably had plans with David Nolan, so Belle was left pretty much option less in terms of getting a date for this party. She could have asked Cane 117, but didn’t want their meeting to be because she couldn’t find anyone else to go with. That would make her feel like a last resort were the shoe on the other foot. Gaston it was. 

He talked about plans of saving her from the big bad Golden Sons books which was sweet. Until he continued on talking about it like her demise was inevitable. She wasn’t done fighting. This was the last thing she truly had of her mother still being there with her. Moe might had been keen in giving it up to the likes of cooperate goons who wanted to make it a parking lot or something worse, but she wasn’t. The French House was her place. She built it’s loving, warm, caring reputation from the ground up just as her mother had. This was her heart and soul. She wasn’t going to give it up because Mr Gold was a little intimidating around the town. His money could buy a lot of things, but her time and energy doing what she wanted with her store wasn’t for sale. 

Belle left Gaston to talk while she went to get a drink. It’d been a long week. He wasn’t going to judge her or want anything from her at all tonight, if ever again at this point, she deserved a little something. That it was because Mr Rum was hanging around the bar had nothing to do with it. He looked wonderful in his black suit and red tie. He even had his lengthy hair slicked back. Her eyes lingered on that section as she came up and sat next to him.

“White wine, please.” She said like she didn’t see him. “Oh, hello.” 

“Hello.”

“Remember me, from the bookstore?” Belle bit her bottom lip out of nerves. Was that electricity just one sided? 

“Of course.”

“How’s your…step-grandson?”

“Good. He’s good. I have to deliver this.” 

“Rum. It’s your name, right?”

“And you’re Belle.” Her heart dropped seeing him pick up two drinks. A kid just learning how to spell wouldn’t be able to have that. She turned in her chair and followed his back all the way. He handed the glass over to a woman in a business suit. She was beautiful with chestnut hair and wide circle eyes. Of course.

“I can’t believe you were talking to Rum Gold.” Vince, the guy who invited her here and the runner of the antiquities website, said to her.

“Rum Gold? As in-?”

Belle couldn’t even finish the thought, but who else? How could she had not seen it before, with the child spelling the godforsaken last name over and over again and nothing else? How could she had been so blind? Because she wanted to believe this handsome man was genuinely being nice to her and was actually just trying to bond with the kid who one day was going to be part of his own family? The only person that she felt like that in a conversation with had been Cane 117. She wanted to run home and tell him all about it for the comfort, but wouldn’t dare. She always envied Cane117 talking about how he could never keep his mouth shut, even when he wanted to. She was going to step up and try it herself. Belle found Gold staying with the business woman and Neal Cassidy. Of Cassidy’s Golden Books. She marched right over to him. He was gathering plate of food with his back to the entire room.

“Gold? Your last name is Gold?”

“G-O-L-D.” He shoved it in her face.

‘”You were spying on me weren't you? You probably rented that child.” Belle spat, but he just looked unamused.

“Why would I?”

“I’m your competition.” 

“I was spending the day with people who may one day be my relative. There was only one place to buy children’s books, Henry’s latest obsession, though that will not be the case, it was yours. It’s cute. You probably sell two-to-two-fifty grand a year.” 

“How do you know that?” Belle was drawn back from the accuracy and her aforementioned anger to think clearly. Gold stood back, extended both hands, and bowed.

“I am in the book business.” Belle’s face snarled. She pointed at her chest.

“ _I_ am in the book business.” 

“Because you sell books at what they’re worth instead of what people can afford? I’m the evil one here for being in the same business as you? Your bookstore is inconsequential to me. I couldn’t. Care. Less.” Belle’s jaw dropped as he spelled it out for her. She was hurt, cut deep right where there was still scarring. She looked to Gaston and waved him over.

“Gaston LeGume.” He introduced himself, wrapping a tight arm around Belle’s waist. Gold looked at Belle and ignored Gaston’s hand.

“Rum Gold.” 

“Gold? Aw, shit. This is the guy that’s giving you trouble? How do you sleep at night, dude?” Normally Belle would be embarrassed at Gaston’s language. Not right now. There was nothing between them, but for a moment, she pretended Cane117 was standing right by her instead. Her own hero. The business woman interrupted their conversation.

“I use a wonderful OTC drug, but just take half and you’ll wakeup without the tiniest hangover. Regina Mills.” 

“This is Belle French.” Gold introduced only to be answered by a terrible look given from the young woman in question.

“LeGume, as in The Workout Guy?” Neal jumped in the conversation. “Dad, he’s amazing. He’s the one I keep trying to get you to go to for your leg.” 

“I didn’t know book people liked normal stuff?” And that pretending he was Cane117 went out the window. Rum snorted on his drink. Very soon Gaston was all abuzz trying to get Gold to go to the gym with him for a class.

“Rum-” Called Regina. Belle was suddenly very thankful for her.

“Gaston.”

Later that night as Gaston talked about how much he could help Rum Gold and how much he wanted to help Regina Mills, Belle pretended to be asleep. She just wanted to shut the world off around her and cry at least a little. If she knew he’d be on right now, she’d send Cane117 an e-mail to talk about this betrayal. Like so many other nights when Gaston placed an arm around her from behind so he could go to sleep, she pretended it was a man she had never met. She closed her wet eyes and thought of her stranger all warm and sweet and never going to sleep without a kiss goodnight. He would hold and hide her away from the rest of the world that dared hurt her.

In the morning, Belle was a little happier than normal to have a message from him.

_From: Cane117.  
No Subject._

_Do you ever feel like you’ve become the worst version of yourself? I’m like Pandora’s Box. Every time someone tries to open me up all they get is my arrogance, spite, condescension. I wish sometimes I could ignore it, but instead I will say the worst thing in the world to them with a smile on my face like I won’t regret it either. Remorse immediately follows. Knowing that, I dare ask: do you think we should meet?_

The one security Belle felt she really had in her life was this anonymous relationship with someone who probably couldn’t live up to her expectations. The question Cane117 was asking wasn’t if she wanted to meet. The answer to that was yes, a million times yes, please take me home and I would probably let you make love to me until morning because you’re so wonderful. There were many a night that fantasy played out in detail within her mind. The actual real question wasn’t even if they were ready to put a face to the other end of the screen. The fear that boiled within her gut and made her close the laptop off and let it fester within her, was if she was ready for him to see her. 

What if the reason their conversations went so well was because it was well thought out, articulated? What if he had researched her somehow and found out what she liked and used it against her? What if they had talked so much throughout the last few months that they had gone over every topic? What if he wanted to date her? What if he never wanted to see or talk to her again? Every angle of possibilities she thought of and it opened more worries than reassurance. Belle didn’t want to jeopardize anything by any means. He did. Her most trusted friend was ready to put this in danger and meet face to face. Her answer came quite easily with all of that in mind.


	4. four

Cassidy’s Golden Books opening day finally arrived and it was magnificent. Gleaning staircases, a cafe, comfortable chairs to sit in, a bank of cashiers. Every worker wore gray shirts with the dagger logo, a rope was included for the checkout line, and all seven registers had their own cashier ready to go. Most importantly, books as far as the eye could see. The place was jam packed as Neal and Rum walked through the store admiring their work completed with no pickets, no demonstrations, no riots. The neighborhood loved them. They were wondering where Cassidy’s Golden Books had been all these years and how Maine ever lived without it. The place was a hit.

Neal asked how the children’s book department was doing. Gold tensed, but assured it was too early to tell. School wasn’t out yet and The French House was still open just nearby. They agreed they were going to crush it while several mothers with children walked behind them. 

After work soon thereafter during thanksgiving, Gold was at the newsstand. Belle turned and pretended to be staring at a wall until he finished buying his papers and walked on. Another day, Gold was putting sugar into his coffee when she came in the cafe. He pretended not to see her. During this time, BookGirl told Cane117 that she didn’t think it was a good idea that they met. She loved their relationship and the excitement and intimacy of their time together on their own little island in cyberspace. She wanted to share it with him. She asked him to please not ask her again. What Cane117 didn’t know was that BookGirl was in pain after sending that message. 

“You made twelve hundred less than the same week last year.” Granny said, helping Belle go through receipts. Ruby was at the other side on the computer researching what better they could do.

“That could be a fluke right?” 

“Or not.” Granny said, pointedly as she and Belle looked at each other.

“It’s new. It’s a novelty, but it will all shake out. Do you think I should put up more lights?” Ruby asked, now looking at the window by the front door. Belle smiled.

“That’s a lovely idea.” Belle waited until Ruby was away to express her fear.

“I’ll never find another job to pay the rent and I’ll have to move. Out of Storybrooke.” Folding on the shop was like giving up on her mother. Belle jumped as the front door closed shut with a loud bang and Ruby was gone. She got up and went tithe window to see Ruby talking with some man.

‘Ms Blanchard!” Belle rapped on the window as the teacher passed. Mary Margaret smiled with trepidation and waved. 

“We’re so excited to have you come in and read to the kids after the holiday break. When should we schedule it?” 

“Oh, that won’t be until January. Are you going to be in business in January? I’m so worried.” Belle’s mouth gaped and looked over her shoulder.

“We’re doing great, aren’t we?”

“No difference whatsoever!” Granny covered, waving from the back.

“Thank goodness. You know you can count on me for anything. Support, rallies, picket lines. We can get Glass to write something. Or that nut at the gym! This is just the sort of thing that would outrage him.” Mary Margaret assured as she started walking away. Belle pursed her lips and shook her head. That only reminded her she needed to go grocery shopping.

The night before Thanksgiving was always the worst time to be in the store and she knew that very well. However, Gaston was out of energy drinks and protein shakes and countless other things at her apartment that she felt would be good to get him. He wasn’t a bad guy. Just a complete idiot on how to be boyfriend to a girl like her. Belle never admired his muscles, she never paid attention to his physique in general, and that didn’t work with him. She tried to be equally encouraging in his workout regime just the same amount that he put into her reading books and running a bookstore. Never more, never less. She began to wonder if she was only spending her days with him out of fear. He liked her because she was pretty. She liked him because he was…the only one.

As she tried wedging her way through the crowd in the cheese department, she reached across three people to grab some Brie. In her position Belle had a clear view of the front door and saw Rum Gold walking in. She quickly turned her back so he couldn’t see her. She stood there frozen for a solid five seconds before making sure the coast was clear. Not seeing him anywhere, Belle dug in her purse. She wore dark glasses as a disguise and looked around for the shortest line. She made a beeline for it. Rum Gold came from another department and got in line she was heading for. Panicked, Belle retreated to another one and stood with her back to him without paying attention to anything else. The cashier gave her the total she didn’t hear and Belle handed over a card.

“Cash only.” 

“Oh my goodness, I only have a card. Can you please do this just once?” Belle pleaded. She needed out. She needed out. 

“There’s a sign!” The person behind her side. The one behind them muttered about her not having cash. The entire line is talking about it and soon they’re all yelling at her to get in another line.

“Oh, hello.” Gold stood beside her. She pursed her lips and seethed. 

“Hello.” 

“Do you need some money?”

“I do not.”

“Get on another line.” The cashier insisted. Gold turned his attention to them. 

“Hello. I’m not exactly up with technology, can you tell me what this is?” He motioned towards the credit card machine. The cashier answered this. “Oh, that’s too bad. Ms French here only has a credit card. What kind of messed up world is this? Happy Thanksgiving.” 

A pause as the cashier just stared at him. 

Gold leaned forward with a touch of malice in his eyes. “It’s your turn to say Happy Thanksgiving back.” 

The cashier backed up. “Happy Thanksgiving back.” The anger in her almost vanished at the wink Gold gave her.

“Now take this credit card and put it through the machine.” Belle watched in awe as she fell to his charms and took her card. Her awe turned into being appalled when she got her head back on clear. “So you’re okay?” Belle nodded, gaping, unaware of to think of anything sharp to say.

Mr Gold’s thanksgiving consisted of him and Neal having a dinner in Gold’s salmon house. This wasn’t their first since their reconnection, but none had ever been easy to get through. They both knew that Neal would much rather be with Emma and Henry for that second holiday together. After a long while of eating a dinner, Gold finally told Neal to leave. The knives on the porcelain plates and the wine glasses clinking on the wooden table was officially driving him crazy. He was the one who asked Neal to be there that night despite knowing Emma had invited him along to some other party. Letting him go was not easy by any means.

Belle had gotten invited by Mary Margaret to attend their thanksgiving dinner and showed up alone. Everything was already in full swing when Neal arrived. Leftovers were on a sideboard near a round table, everyone was singing around an upright piano. Ruby warned Belle that Neal had shown up, for Emma’s invitation, but that wasn’t who she had a quarrel with. Belle went over and introduced herself to Neal when he was by himself. They spoke for awhile and found that on the bottom line, they had similar goals. They just wanted to make an honest living selling books. Belle confessed she wanted to be more in antique books than anything else. Something in Neal clicked and he grinned to himself, asking if she heard of a certain website.

“I’ve heard of people meeting dear friends on that website. Have you?” Belle flushed. There was no use denying it.

“I have. I don’t think it’s worth anything, though. We haven’t talked since I declined his offer to meet.” Belle shared. Neal was a good guy, as evidenced by Henry’s adoration for him.

While Belle talked with Emma Swan and her son about getting the latest in his fairy tale comic books in, Neal asked Ruby to join him in the kitchen for a bit of very interesting conversation. He was about to share the information he had just discovered, something that his father could use to ruin her business, but that stopped. Henry was lighting up as he found someone who indulged in talking about his favorite stories. Emma’s ex always had played it off like nothing when Henry brought it up. Emma was good with it, but Belle lived and breathed books. She shared insights Henry had never thought about.

“You’re not going to ask me to tell her to leave, are you? It’s the holidays and she’s being nice. Why can’t you?”

Neal thought for a minute. He would give this news to Ruby and then let her figure out how they should deal with this. “So Belle met someone on that website? That’s so funny.”

“Not any funnier than-”

“Because my dad met someone too.”


	5. Interlude.

_From: BookGirl  
Subject: happy holidays._

_I miss my mom so much more this year. She’s been gone for ten years, but everywhere I look is things we used to do. The Nutcracker, ice skating, my first experience as a speechless person. My melancholia over the season grows worse since I need advice from her. I’m sorry to depress you, but this helps. You help._

_From: Cane117  
Subject: Empathy. _

_My mother took me ice skating too. Although, she did not skate. And I was in the Nutcracker once. My mom died when I was very young, I don’t remember her too very much. I remember my father. I stayed with him, and his way of telling me that she passed was that she wouldn’t be come picking me up. I think it was an accident. I assume I owe her a tendency to cover almost any emotion with a bitter taste of a sarcastic joke. A useful gift, unless you want to know what you’re feeling. She was beautiful. People toss that word around a lot, but my mother was. And I believe you are, too._

_Ancient history. What kind of advice do you need? I’d love to help._

Rum Gold paused typing. He was surprised to find that his eyes were watering. His childhood went a lot deeper than that, but he never did. He shook his head, shaking his emotion off and started typing again seeing that she was online. He took a leap and hit the instant message button by her name.

Belle is shocked by the notification just as she was about to reply to his e-mail. 

_Cane117: I had a feeling you’d be on right now.  
BookGirl: I don’t think you can help.  
Cane117: is it about love?  
BookGirl: My business is in trouble. My mother would know what to say.  
Cane117: I’m an excellent businessman. What do you do?  
BookGirl: No specifics, remember?  
C: Minus specifics, then. I suggest you go to war. It’s not personal, it’s business. I know you worry about being brave, this is your chance. Fight. Fight to the death. _

Belle wrote and erased a thousand responses. Some confessionals, others her fears, but she didn’t get the time. 

_C: I have to sign off. I will talk to you later.  
B: Oh, alright. But thank you. It means everything to me._


	6. six.

Belle French had gone to war. She met with Sidney Glass who wrote a very nice and generous article about her in the paper. He reminded people that Belle and her mother raised people’s children based off of books. If the precious resource is killed by the ‘cold cash cow of Cassidy’s Golden books’ it was going to be the end of their neighborhood. Everyone wanted the quiet little Maine town to remain out of cooperated, monopolized, greed. Golden Books, as Sidney Glass claimed, was everything they voted against in town meetings.

Outside, Channel Two and Channel Thirteen both were waiting for Belle French when she made it to work that next morning after the paper ran. Belle prepared for the reporters and interviewers. She was ready to go to war. She was ready to save her shop.

“They have to have discounts and lattes because most of the people who work there have never read a book.” 

Rum Gold and Neal Cassidy watched the train wreck on the television in their office. 

“She’s nowhere near that nice.” Neal raised a brow in his father’s direction.

“You’ve met her?”

“I’ve met a pill.” 

“She’s probably not as pretty, either.”

“Oh, no. She’s beautiful. Absolutely enchanting and smart. But a pill.”

“You don’t feel bad about destroying her livelihood and legacy?” Neal asked this just as Mr Gold on screen was making himself look bad by way of a misquoted interview statement.

“That’s not all I said. I was eloquent. Shit. It’s inevitable, isn’t it? I am the dark and evil one.” 

That afternoon, twenty children marched in front of Golden Books holding little homemade picket signs and singing songs. Customers passed right through them. Inside, the noise could still be heard. The place remained full of customers anyway. Cassidy and Gold were holding a copy of the weekly newspaper with tightly clenched fists. Gold took out his phone and called Regina Mills. She assured that the issue was being taken care of and Sidney Glass was being let go. Thus was the beginning of the end for their problems.

Several days later after the noise had calmed down and Glass had been fired, Gaston was surveying the bookstore talking about whether onto he should put sausages into meat sauce or just chopped meat. Granny asked him to leave and he did without argent. She then, with a heavy heart, explained to Belle that all of the publicity hadn’t made the slightest bit of difference. That was even worse, because the news and the controversy probably helped. She began hearing it rain and got up to pull the grate down over the shop. She was at a loss. During this time, seeing as her mother wasn’t available to talk, there was one person. 

BookGirl and Cane117 agreed to meet in a public place. When Ruby heard, she was beyond ecstatic. Mary Margaret warned not to go anywhere with him, not even out to the street afterwords. She asked to just get a cab to sit and wait for her. Ruby then asked if Belle told Gaston. This was an issue, because of course there was nothing going to happen at this dinner. That Gaston was out of town at the 32nd anniversary of some gym trainer’s awards or something was a blessing. He’d gone to a place where there are no phones. And she was meeting guy, not in a bar, who she had never seen before. Mary Margaret was flabbergasted that Ruby wasn’t more concerned. 

The night of the date came and she changed her dress fifteen times. Belle was running late, but she wanted everything to be perfect. She was finally going to see him. The man she wanted to hold her all through the night. If it lead to sex, then…okay. She was prepared for that possibility. If he ended up being a creep and was planning on killing her, she was prepared to spend the rest of her life alone in her apartment. Everything was going to be just fine. It had to be if ruby was encouraging this.

“I suppose she’s carrying a copy of a book with a flower in it.” Neal accompanied Mr Gold to the cheesecake place. Gold didn’t say anything. “Which Jane Austen is it?”

“It’s not. It’s Catcher.” 

“She could be very unattractive.”

“We’ll have something in common then.” Gold suddenly stopped when they reached the cafe. “I’m ruining this.”

“You’re taking it to the next level. You think I got anywhere with Emma and Henry by staying in one place?” 

“I’m not going to stay long. Christ. I’m a wreck.” Gold started walking the other way before he stopped. “Bae, this woman is the most beautiful creature I can spend five minutes talking to without completely hating. If she turns out to be as good looking as a mailbox, I’m going to be an idiot not to change my life to marry her.” 

“She could be terrible.” Gold was still panicking. 

“You go look. Go to the window and see if she’s even there.” Neal walked over a little further and peeked in the window. He found Belle, book and all looking very nervous.

“She’s very pretty.” 

“She is. I knew she would be.” 

“She looks…she looks like Belle French.”

“Belle French of the bookstore. Who cares about Belle French?” 

“You said she was attractive. If you don’t like Belle French, you’re not going to like this girl.”

“Why not?” 

“Because it is Belle French.” Gold blanched and elbowed him away. “What are you going to do?” 

“Nothing, Bae.” 

“You’re just going to walk away like a coward? Again?” 

“Goodnight, Bae. I’ll see you tomorrow.” And with that, Gold left. Down the street. Disappointed, Neal walked the opposite way and called Ruby. 

Inside, Belle wiped at the watering eyes. All alone, sitting at a table for two drinking her iced tea. A loud group walked in laughing and having a wonderful time. They reached for the chair opposite of her and tried to take it. She reached forward and placed it back down. She watched as they jokingly fight over the menu then checked her watch for the millionth time. Her vision is blurry as she looked at the book. She remained hopeful for every man that came in, but nothing. One passed her table and knocked the book and flower to the floor. Belle rescued them as though they were precious china that might chip and break. Her one hero. Gone in an instant.

“Belle French, hello. Mind if I sit down?” Mr Gold strolled in and made himself comfortable anyway. He picked up her book while she was still annoyed and nervous and frustrated. “Pride and Prejudice?”

“Would you please leave? Please?” Her voice was small and breaking. Having that effect on BookGirl broke his heart, but he dared not show.

“I’ll leave as soon as your friend comes. Is he late? We can get to know each other better now.” 

“If I knew you, I know I’d find instead of a brain a cash register and instead of a heart a bottom line.” 

“Will you start out sweet as sugar candy and then suddenly find that sharp tongue of yours?” 

“No. The man who’s coming here tonight is completely unlike you. The man is kind and funny and is smart and passionate-”

“And not here.”

“If he’s not here, he’s got a reason. There is no cruel or careless bone in his body. You are nothing but a suit.” Mr Gold nodded and stood and left.

A moment later, Belle walked out of the place herself. She tossed the rose in the trash can. She had planned for every last possibility. She thought of him as grotesque as she possibly could and researched ways not to throw up if he smelled really bad. She had put on extra deodorant, her best perfume, in case he was so gorgeous it made her sweat. She took time on her makeup to be as pretty as she could. She had gotten the best red rose from her father’s shop for free. She had done every thing possible. Except think of this. This was the worst outcome she never thought she would have from him. 

There was no e-mail from him when she went home. A tear she had been holding in all night finally fell and she was angry with herself for it. Belle got up, kicked off her shoes, and crawled into bed fully clothed. Everything had been wonderful. She wanted help. She reached out for him. He turned her away. She sniffed and hugged her pillow tight against her chest. Cold and alone. Cold and alone. Cold and alone. The clock on her wall ticked it out until she cried her heartbroken self to sleep.


	7. seven

“Underneath that disagreeable exterior could turn out to be-”

“A pain my side. Let’s not talk about it. I’m going to the office, you have work to do.” 

_From: BookGirl.  
Subject: Inflection._

_I’m still thinking about you. Last night you weren’t there. I wish I knew why, but even if you agreed to do this again I’d still go. I waited, someone else showed up. Someone who has made my professional life misery. I said what I wanted. And I feel terrible. I was cruel and I’m never cruel. I can hardly believe what I said mattered to this man, to him, I’m just a bug to be crushed. But what if it did? No matter what he’s done to me, I had no excuse._

_You are my best friend. If you never want to talk again,just know that it has meant everything to me. You mean everything to me._

Gold had been talking horribly about Belle French all day long, all eight hours, to Neal Cassidy who sat there and let the old man stew. He had seen the message in his messages, but out of spite, ignored it. He wanted her to hurt as bad as she had cut him. He had gone back for her because he felt bad seeing her alone. Of course, she would never know that.he had been the tormentor these last few weeks. He owed her. He waited until he went home, however, to figure out an excuse.

Rum erased seven drafts. He went from being in Vancouver, to the lights being out, to getting arrested, everything and anything that would make her see him as who he really was. A coward. Finally, he took a breath. He clicked on the white screen and began a stream of consciousness. 

_From: Cane117  
Subject: None._

_I can’t tell you what happened, but please forgive me. From the bottom of my heart I feel terrible you found yourself in a situation that caused you additional pain. I’m sure whatever you said was deserved. You were expecting to see someone you trusted and met the monster instead. The fault is not yours. It is mine. Someday I’ll explain. Meanwhile, I won’t leave you alone here. Talk to me._

“Did he say anything about meeting again?” Ruby asked. Belle shook her head. 

They entered into the building where Moe French, Gaston, Ruby, Granny, and Mary Margaret had all shown up to attend. With tears in her eyes, she made her decision. They were going to close. They were going under anyway with no way out. Her mother’s legacy deserved some bit of respect. Going to war hadn’t worked and only made herself feel worse. She was built to keep things comfortable. She was built to care for things. She wasn’t her mom, or Gaston, or Ruby, or anyone that was strong and good. She felt weak. She felt like a failure. She was quitting something that had been a lifelong dream to give to her own daughter. Belle’s heart was completely broken.

“Keeping the store open doesn’t keep her alive, sunshine.” Granny comforted. 

Gaston took her to the movies that night where he confessed to not loving her anymore. Belle smiled and placed her head on his shoulder and took his hand. He repeated it again and she promised that she heard him the first time. She was just relieved, because she didn’t love him either. Gaston wrapped an arm around her shoulders and held her close. This was the first date they ever had together where they were both completely honest with each other. And that he didn’t try to get inside of her skirt. She was happy. For the first time all week, she was glad to be with Gaston. He took all of his workout equipment from her apartment and moved it into someone’s named Babette. 

The French House was crowded. People were buying things by the stack. Granny, Ruby, and Mary Margaret came by to help whenever they could. Belle watched as the inside of her home was torn apart. A woman told her it was a tragedy, then yelled to someone else to grab a copy of some book. Belle just smiled. When asked what she was going to do with herself, she had her answer practiced. She was going to take some time off. That was it. Another shopper began crying. Another said her mother was happy. Another suggested they bomb Golden Books. Belle told Cane117 about all of this in one sentence. 

_From BookGirl  
Subject:Closure._

_I owned a shop I had to close and I feel as if my mother has died all over again._

Corrupted, Belle walked to Golden Books one afternoon when it was all done and over with. Customers were lined up to buy books. She entered and looked around, going up the stairs until she found herself in the children’s department. It was huge. A reading area, a stage,a room for displays, child-sized furniture and more customers than Belle had overseen in her life. She sat down on one of the little chairs and felt like a completely wilted rose. Gold watched her cry while Neal spoke with some customer. Something inside him rotted. Neal caught his gaze and frowned as Belle, in tears, told a lost customer what author she was looking for as the salesperson had no idea. Belle stormed away. 

“She’d make a great children’s book author.” Neal commented while they were alone in their offices. Gold didn’t comment. “She knows everything and has flawless taste. If she likes it, it sells.”

Gold remained silenced, but he finally had enough. He grabbed his coat and cane and hobbled to the elevator. Neal caught up with him.

“I’m offering her a job. I’m going to get her in touch with an editor.”

Gold pressed the button repeatedly as if it would make this process go faster. 

“I love that you’ve forgotten how you had any role in her being destitute.” Neal pushed, wanting something to snap, but Gold didn’t laminate on what that possibly could be.

The lights flickered and the elevator suddenly stopped. Neal pushed the open button, turned the key and hit the open button, then hit the emergency. Then he started hitting every combination. Gold rolled his eyes and reached for the phone.

“This is Rum Gold. Hello, we’re stuck on the sixth flour. There’s two of us.” 

It was during this being trapped in the elevator with his son that Rum Gold had a very long conversation. He went home that night and Sen her a message.

_From: Cane117  
Subject: Clarity. _

_I got stuck in an elevator with my son and we talked about a lot of things. Everything is clear. It’s like moving a chair an inch to the left every morning. By the end of the week you have an entirely new room._

Gold read the response on his phone while standing outside of The French House. On the door was a sign that read after forty seven years, they were closed. They loved being apart of people’s lives.

_From: BookGirl  
Subject: Unknown._

_When I met you, I knew what I’d be doing and who I’d be doing it with for the rest of my life. Now I know nothing._


	8. Eight

During Rum Gold’s weekend to entertain Henry for a few hours, the child refused to go with him. Henry didn’t want to go to the zoo, or ride the ferry, or eat so much candy that Emma would hate Gold for as long as the sugar lasted. He didn’t want to eat lunch, either. All Henry did was blame Rum for killing the French Lady. Henry wanted to hear a story and not from anyone, including either of his moms. He hated Cassidy’s Golden Books for running Belle out of business and now he’d never get another book from her again. He’d never know how his fairytale comics were going to end. Gold could forget about buying the remaining ones, because Henry threw a fit and sobbed hysterically about the very idea.

BookGirl didn’t reply to him. After a few days longer than she normally took when she needed a break, he caved in and asked her what was going on. She had a cold complete with ears blocked and nose clogged. He checked in on her whenever he thought was allowable time frame and found that being sick did not deter her from worrying about her future.

“I’m engaged.” Neal announced the Monday after Gold didn't take Henry. 

“I’m very proud of you, Bae.” Gold remained still. Neal was the one who came over and hugged his father, seeing it was what he wanted. “It isn’t easy to find the one single person who fills your heart with joy. Henry’s okay with Ms Swan marrying the man whose father axed the French lady?” 

“More than okay. Henry knows he can trust me.” 

Belle’s cold had gotten worse. She was sleeping most of the day, she wasn’t really awake when she got up and moved around, she was on more medication than she ever had been, everything was stopped up, and she looked terrible. Ruby, however, paid mind to the sickness and was now watching over her still heartbroken friend. Belle was asleep when Rum Gold buzzed the apartment to ask if he could come visit her. Having been in contact with Neal over the majority of the Internet romance, Ruby let him in. She gave an update Belle’s situation and watched as Gold’s face turned from nervous about being there to pure concern.

She was laid up in bed with tissue boxes all around her. The curly hair was tied back, but loose ends stuck to her sweaty face. She wore no makeup and still managed to look like the beautiful young woman he knew so well. 

“Belle? You got a visitor.” Belle mumbled and sat up. She smiled right at Gold without really seeing him. 

“I heard you were sick and I was- I wanted to drop by.” Belle moved over in the bed and patted the spot behind her. Gold looked to Ruby who nodded. He sat down where instructed. Belle rolled over and took his hand. 

“You put me out of business. Now you’re bringing flowers? Are you gonna goat?”

“She means gloat.” 

“I got offered a job by someone that works with you…”

“Neal. Ruby? Would you mind putting these in water?” Ruby took the roses and went to the kitchen. She could see the interaction from her place.

“Why are you here?” Belle asked, looking up at him. Gold pushed her hair back to feel her clammy forehead. 

“I was worried. I brought roses.”

“I love roses.”

“You told me.” 

“How is business after ruining my life?” 

“No one’s allowed to work in the children’s department without a PhD.” After seeing her heartbroken in his store over someone not knowing where to find a book, Gold changed his regulations. Firing people wasn’t an issue. Not if it ended up making her happier.

“Stay with me. I’m tired.” She used all of her strength to pull him down with her. Gold did very carefully once Ruby was back in the room and see that the action was asked for. Belle curled up into his chest as he leaned back against the headboard. 

“What happened with that guy at the cafe?” He asked Ruby, unaware that both she and his son were well aware of everything.

“Nothing.” Belle mumbled, brows furrowing. He took a handkerchief out of his jacket pocket and held it under her nose when she looked like she was about to sneeze.

“She’s crazy about him.” Belle nodded at Ruby’s observation.

Rum Gold stayed there the majority of the night acting as Belle’s security blanket. She was on a lot of medication and that made her drowsy and loop-legged, but Ruby assured that Belle deeply wanted him here. Ruby went to sleep at the foot of the bed after making it clear she knew what was going on between the two of them online. She warned him, more like a guard dog than a protective friend, not to hurt Belle. Rum promised that he would not, could not, hurt her. She would meet the man on the other end of the screen, but first he had to be friends with her. He couldn’t just be one side of himself all of the time. It was the same as lying to her or, at least, not telling her the truth. He wanted to work on that. 

After Belle got better, she began her new life. She began writing a new children’s book about a group of kids named Ruby, Mary, and Rose running amok around Boston without a care in the world and getting into all kinds of adventures. Belle opened up to Cane117 about wanting to meet again. He promised they would, but he was in the middle of something that he wanted to work on first. Belle sincerely understood and for the first time in her life since everything was tossed into the fan, she felt warmth. It all happened after Rum Gold visited when she was sick. He wanted to meet for coffee and then wanted to be friends.

Always the open book, Belle told him while they were walking around with their coffee about meeting Cane117. Over the next few weeks, Rum had his fun as they met casually talking about Cane117. He got her to e-mail if he was married, if he owned a boat, if he’d ever been in jail. They split a burger and discussed the answers. He kept trying to convince her that Cane117 was a short, fat little bald man with constant Cheeto fingers and Mountain Dew stains on every shirt. She laughed at that and defended him to himself. 

“He’s an old soul! Nothing like that.” She said, fighting back giggles.

“Or just old.” Belle nudged his arm.

“I wouldn’t be fussed if he were older than even you.” 

“You know he’s just waiting until you believe there’s no other person you could love. Sometimes I wonder…” 

“Rum.” Belle could feel exactly where this was going. They’d been doing this for days now and it was feeling as right as rain. Even better.

“If I hadn’t been the Gold in Golden and you hadn’t been French in French House and we just met I would have let David Nolan convince me into asking for your number, I wouldn’t be able to wait a second before calling and asking you to coffee, drinks, dinner, movies, for as long as we both shall live. We would never be at war. The only thing we’d fight over is what book to read each other on Saturday night.” 

They were face to face with each other. His fingers were brushing against hers. She took his hand.

“We would never. I have to go.” She let his fingers go and turned away.

“I wish you would forgive me for putting you out of business. The way you did him for standing you up.” Rum called after her.

A few days later, BookGirl received an e-mail from Cane117.   
He wanted to meet her. That Saturday. The first day of Spring.  
Belle agreed to meet him, but only to say she was in love with someone else. 

Belle didn’t have to wait for Cane117 to show up after a family member’s wedding. He was already there, outside of the diner. Taller than her, graying hair, and the kindest face she had ever seen despite looking nervous as hell. He was carrying a bouquet of flowers and looked like he had just come from a major event in a nice and neatly pressed suit. Belle nearly ran to him. Rum heard heels clicking and smiled watching the love of his life coming towards him. He extended his arms and let her collide into his chest. She only withdrew to pick up his cane and hand it back to him. 

When her sides were burning at the lack of air from kissing him so passionately for so long, she pulled back. Tears in her eyes and a refusal to let go of hugging his neck made cause for a scene, but they were left alone.

“It seems that the only person I am willing to leave you for is you.”

“Which part of me is the one you want? 

“I was going to tell Cane117 I was in love with someone else, but I want all of you. You are so not perfect, but I do love you.”

“I do love you too, dearie.”


End file.
